by Lauren Runow
Sage was at least more handsome in person. Okay, a lot more handsome. I never expected a tall, strapping man with sun kissed skin and hair that was mussed to perfection rather than slicked back. And that lean, athletic physique? Whoa. His muscular arms resembled that of someone who uses them for more than writing checks, and when I started to imagine those big, manly hands stroking up and down my body, I could practically feel the heat rise to my cheeks.
I’ll admit, I like what I saw, and my heart rate accelerated slightly as we walked closer. It was short-lived, though, when I remembered what was really at stake. I don’t care how handsome he is; I’m not going to marry someone for money or looks. I’ll marry for love, for passion, and nothing more.
I might as well become a nun now if I have to live the life of that high-browed family. Having to be on point at all times, pretending to be someone I’m not would be the death of me.
For years I’ve heard stories of his family, the events they attended, the portrait they portrayed. It all makes me sick. There’s a lot more they could do to help the people, but they don’t.
When they came to the orphanage I volunteer at, everyone was giddy with excitement, but I saw right through their pretentious bullshit. They were there for fifteen minutes, barely walking in the front door and leaving as soon as they could. One of the kids had a runny nose and the king wouldn’t get within five feet of him, actually asking them to keep the little boy in the other room.
When they left it was like they were never there. Nothing changed. They didn’t leave a donation or say they were going to build another much needed room to house more beds. They took their photos and left.
There are a lot of people struggling financially in Canterbury. Jobs are scarce and the odds of these kids getting adopted are slim to none since people are barely making ends meet as it is.
Canterbury used to export sugar cane, which grows in abundance on the island, but without any explanation, the factories were shut down years ago leaving many people out of work.
You’d think they would ask more of their royal leaders, demanding for them to work on making Canterbury a better place to live, but they don’t. Everyone looks up to them like they are Gods, putting them on pedestals I don’t think are anywhere near earned.
Since I’ve never heard any stories of Sage, I can only imagine his life is so mundane that even the media doesn’t care to cover it.
No thanks.
He played that role well, too. My God, when he pulled my hand up to his lips, the urge to hurl right there came on strong, taking me out of any lust filled thoughts I had. I mean, really? Who does that nowadays? It just further proved my point.
Boring.
We chatted for a few minutes, never leaving our parents side. You can imagine how awkward that was.
How they expected us to truly get to know each other with my mom kissing their ass on one side of me, and his sanctimonious dad eyeing me suspiciously—like I’m not good enough for his son—on the other, is beyond me.
King William’s right. I’m not good enough for him, and I’ll be the first to admit it.
I like to let loose, enjoy life to the fullest, and physically make a difference. That’s not a life I can lead in their family.
Now I have no choice but to sit back, waiting patiently, praying that I’m not the one he wants.
I tried to go home, but needing to rid my mind of Sage’s beautiful, hazel eyes—that kept playing with my mind—as well as his dad’s snobbish glares, I had to seek liquid moral support.
When I open the door to Huey’s, our local pub, it takes a minute for my vision to adjust to the dark setting in stark contrast to the bright, summer sun outside. Only a few people are scattered about, playing pool or sitting at the bar. I see Jeannine, my best friend, saving me a seat. I head her way, relieved she’s here so I can unload my troubles.
We met the first day of college and have been inseparable ever since. We have our first documentary planned out, and I’ve been working side jobs to raise money so we can make it happen. Getting past these royal obligations is my last hurdle, and then we’ll begin filming.
“Girl, I need a drink, and I need it now,” I announce as I pull out the chair next to her.
“That bad?”
I sigh. “I guess not that bad, but the whole idea is bad, so yeah, I need a drink.”
“Tell me about it.” She slides her cocktail to me before motioning to the bartender to order another.
After taking a long sip, I drop my head back, inhaling a deep breath before I let the cool liquid slide down my throat.
“It was stiff, dull, very ma'am and curtsey inducing,” I say sarcastically.
“Oh, come on. There are so many rumors about him he couldn’t be that awful. I always figured that’s why his parents shipped him off to London, to keep him out of the limelight here.”
I sigh. “No way. That whole family is the same. All of them doing their media campaigns, visiting homeless shelters like they give a damn, all while dressed in their best Versace ensembles.”
“No, that's his sister. Not him,” she defends.
“Yes, but her new husband is always by her side, seemingly bored as shit.”
“That's them, you can't judge Prince Sage by what they do. Notice you've never seen him acting like that.”
“Exactly, he'll make me queen, and I'll be the one having to travel around, doing photo ops while he has his little piece of ass on the side.”
Jeannine narrows her eyes. “Do you hear yourself, right now? I know you’re obsessed with Jackie Kennedy and Princess Diana, but they aren’t you, and he isn’t them. Are we really sitting here having a conversation about how you don't want to marry a prince?”
“Ha, ha, ha.” I shoot her a glare.
“What's the sarcastic laugh about over here?” a guy asks from behind me.
I turn around to see a tall, decent-looking man about my age. His jaw line seems like it’s cut from a mold, and his eyes are the craziest aqua blue, shining brightly in the bar lights.
My attention turns to where he boldly places his hands on both Jeannine’s chair and mine.
“She's bitching about having to marry a prince,” Jeannine states nonchalantly.
I slap her arm.
“Ah, so you're one of the lucky females in line to marry Prince Sage? Damn, and here I came over here thinking I had a chance,” he jokes.
“You still might,” Jeannine states. “At least if she has anything to say about it.”
“You're joking right?” He pinches his eyebrows together in confusion.
“See, even he thinks you’re nuts,” Jeannine deadpans.
“Seriously? What girl doesn't dream of being a princess?” he asks, in surprise.
“This one...” I whisper, glancing down and fiddling with the straw in my cup. “I mean, not like this. It's not the princess thing; it's being forced. I don't even know the guy. I want to marry for—” I look up to realize I'm talking about love with a complete stranger. I shake my head. “Never mind. You don't care to hear my drama.”
His friend calls him from across the bar. He acknowledges him before turning back to me. “Well, if you do marry him, I bet you two would be perfect together,” he states matter-of-factly.
He heads off to talk to his friend, and I glance over to Jeannine, confused by his statement. She shrugs, so I shake it off and nod to the bartender for another drink.
I involuntarily search for the guy all night. I never see him with another girl, but when he catches me staring, he winks. There was something about the whole interaction that felt peculiar, but I can't put my finger on it.
4
Sage
I don’t care what my dad says about her being out of the running; I have to learn more about Everly. But I'm going to put her to a test first. She didn’t seem like she wanted to be at our initial meeting, but I need to make absolutely sure.
And I know just how to do it.
Instead of calling her an
d asking her out like a normal human being, I had my friend, Joey, call her to set up the date, pretending to be my assistant—which I don’t have. I had to cover my mouth so she didn’t hear me laughing when I sat next to him as they spoke.
Her tone was anything but excited. I can see my idea lying out exactly as I planned.
He said a car—not me—would pick her up at seven and take her where I would be waiting. I even went as far as to have him ask her to wear a pink skirt suit so she would fit in with the royal standards.
I questioned if she would even come. Something told me she was willing to go through with this formality for her mom, and that made me like her even more.
Tonight, I’m going to play the role my parents have groomed me for, but I swear this will be the last time. Once I make her my wife, I will be on my way to being king and making the changes I want to see. Especially the way we’re perceived in our country.
People look at us in a light that is so skewed it’s ridiculous. They have no idea just how much of an ass my father really is, and what he really thinks of them. If they did, they would stage a military coup and try to better this country on their own.
Joey donned a suit and drove my family’s Rolls-Royce to go pick up Everly. I wish I could be a fly on the wall so I could see her reaction.
I can only imagine the other girls I’ve met thinking they’ve died and gone to heaven being treated like that, but my guess is her chauffeur will more than annoy her. I hope Joey can play it off and not give himself away.
I wanted to be standing outside when they pulled up to the five-star restaurant, but Joey suggested I make her come to me to see if she plays along, or if we can get a rise out of her.
As I sit and wait for her arrival, I can’t stop the chuckle escaping my lips. I pray I can get it all out of my system before she gets here, so I don’t ruin anything.
“Your date, sir,” Joey announces as he enters the private ballroom we reserved.
It’s so over the top, but unfortunately, this isn’t my first time in this exact setting. Anytime my family dines at this restaurant, we’re seated in here and the term treated like royalty is the understatement of the year.
My parents and, shit, even my sister, always go along with it, but I hate every minute. I don’t need to occupy a huge room alone while the rest of the world waits for seats that are needlessly empty around us.
Everly walks in behind him, and my eyes widen at her outfit. I knew we were going over the top with our request, but I moved my pawn and damn, she came in with the move only my queen would make.
My vision lingers on her pink skirt that’s shorter than a normal formal outfit. Instead of a slim-fitting, button-up suit coat, she has on a brighter-pink sleeveless top that is form fitting, leaving a tasteful display of cleavage that makes my mouth water thinking of how her skin would taste.
My entire family would shit their pants, but I swear my interest piqued even more in her.
I stand and pull out her chair, welcoming her to join me, and shooing off Joey. Literally. With my hand like he’s a second-class citizen who isn’t allowed to be near us. She gives me a nasty glare but recovers her expression quickly.
“Thank you for the ride,” she says as Joey walks away.
He turns around and winks at her. Her surprised reaction almost makes me lose my cool.
Once I help push in her chair, I glance in Joey’s direction and have to cough to hide my laughter from the ludicrous face he’s giving me. Dickhead.
“So Everly,” I say in my most distinguished voice. “Thank you for joining me tonight. I wanted to get to know you a little better without our parents around. Please, tell me something about yourself.”
I wave to the staff who is standing in the corner of the room awaiting my every command. I made sure to talk to them before she got here and told them this meeting would be very formal, hoping they understood it to be my apology for my behavior. They’re used to it from my family, but I still have standards I want to uphold for who I am.
She turns her head, and I swear I catch her rolling her eyes at the same time. “I’ve already told you most of what there is to know. I’m a pretty simple person. I like who I am, and I’m excited to get on with the rest of my life.”
“If I choose you as my wife, I hope you understand that all that music nonsense you spoke of will have to stop.” I’m totally talking out of my ass, but I need to know if she’ll stand up for herself.
“I’m sorry. What do you mean?”
Her face turns red, and I’m glad the wait staff interrupts. “Steak, medium-rare for you, sir, and a salad for you ma’am.”
Everly stares at her salad that’s missing most of its ingredients and then over to my steak. She turns to the waiter, “Pardon me, but I didn’t order anything yet.”
“I took the liberty of ordering for us. I wasn’t sure how long I’d want to spend here with you, so I ordered the meal just in case. Eat up.” I motion to her salad as I slice my knife through the juicy meat. It smells amazing, and I can’t help but wonder what’s going on in that beautiful head of hers.
She clears her throat before motioning to the waiter again. “Excuse me. I’m sorry, but I’m a huge fan of the sea bass served here. Would you please rush an order, so I’m still keeping up my meal time with Prince Sage here?”
The waiter turns to me for confirmation. I nod my approval, having to bring my napkin up to cover the smirk I can’t hold back. She definitely passed that test. I want a wife who isn’t afraid to speak her mind. I love that she took the opportunity to get what she wanted.
I take a few bites, not saying anything and seeing what it’s like to sit in silence with her. Surprisingly, it’s not awkward at all. She eats her salad and sips her drink, seemingly happier that I’m not talking.
“So tell me how bad you want to be my wife.” Now I’m totally messing with her. I know that was a ridiculous statement, but I couldn’t help myself.
She drops her head to her chest and shakes it back and forth while letting out a small laugh. “I’m sorry…but I can’t keep up this pretense any longer. The truth is, there is no part of me that wants to be your wife. I’m only here to please my mom. Deep down, I’m praying you don’t choose me.” She blows out a breath. “So now that my cards are out on the table, can we go on with our meal, and then you move on to your next candidate? I think we would both be happier in the long run.”
I nod, taking another bite and turning my attention toward the waiter who sets her sea bass in front of her. I can tell the admission has taken a huge weight off her shoulders as she picks up her fork to enjoy her dinner.
I try to watch her out of the corner of my eye. I’ve seen her from afar for so long, and I’m still pinching myself that she’s sitting next to me. The best part is that I was right. She is different.
Her admission has taken my breath away. I never thought I would find a wife I actually liked, let alone fell in love with. For years I’ve kept girls at arms length when it came to my emotions, but sitting here with her, I’m starting to feel things I’ve never felt before.
I’m happy.
Now I need to figure out how to change her mind about me. She obviously knows nothing about who I am. All she sees is the image my family portrays, and like me, she’s not a fan.
“Well, I appreciate your honesty. I guess we can at least enjoy the rest of our meal before you are dropped off.”
“I appreciate you understanding my feelings.”
My lips go thin. I more than understand, but I can’t tell her that now. I will. In my own time, I will tell her everything. I pray that she’ll want to be my wife one day. Not because she was forced to be, but because she truly wants to be.
5
Sage
My mother was quick to set up the meeting with Marie Dotson. I went along with the idea to appease my father, but it was only to buy time because my mind was already made up.
However, I had my work cut out for me. I needed my parents off
my back so I could figure out how to show Everly I’m not who she thinks I am. With the hope that she finds out about this meeting, I dropped a fake line to the press via a friend of mine, saying this girl I’m meeting would be “the one.”
For years we had an understanding with the press; they leave me alone, and we don’t get in the way of them doing business. That understanding was coming to an end, so I used it to my advantage, knowing they’ve been dying for any story they can get on me.
I want everything to be a surprise for Everly so she won’t suspect it’s me when I finally make my move.
Just like I figured, we pull up to the front of the restaurant, and it’s surrounded by photographers and people clamoring to see who I’m choosing as my wife.
After the door is opened for us, my parents put on a show. Dad steps out first and then offers his hand to my mother, something he only does in the presence of other people. Why she puts up with his fake shit is beyond me.
I sit in the car and wait for the crowd to follow them but no such luck. They are all here to see me, so I take a deep breath and put on the megawatt smile I was taught to wear at all times.
I pause at the door, turning to greet them and pose for the million-dollar shot they hope for. The first one I’ve allowed in years.
Questions are shouted from the crowd. “Who is she, Sage? When will you propose? Where have you been? Is she already in there? Is this the first time you’ve met her?”
“We’ll see. But as of right now it seems she’s the one,” I lie, praying my words are taken as truth and repeated for Everly to hear.
When we enter the restaurant, I see exactly what I expected standing next to her mother and father like a puppy. I’m surprised she isn’t drooling and wagging her tail.
The way her royal blue polyester, knee-length skirt with shimmer nude nylons match her button up suit coat, like we’re still in the 1950’s, makes me shake my head. She fits my dad’s mold all right. Not mine though. I want someone who will wear jeans and tennis shoes when need be because we have a job to do. I doubt this chick even owns a pair.
